


i drove into Seattle rain, fell in love then missed the train

by notthebigspoon



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you sure you’re going to be able to do this?”</p><p>	Bengie very deliberately puts his bat down and stares at his little brother. “Yadier. You know what happens when you and Jose ask me stupid questions.”</p><p>	“I-” Yadi flinches at the memories of countless noogies and wedgies, lost wrestling matches before steeling himself. </p><p>Title taken from Save Me, San Francisco by Train.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i drove into Seattle rain, fell in love then missed the train

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to do this?”

Bengie very deliberately puts his bat down and stares at his little brother. “Yadier. You know what happens when you and Jose ask me stupid questions.”

“I-” Yadi flinches at the memories of countless noogies and wedgies, lost wrestling matches before steeling himself. “You know what I mean. Are you going to be okay around the Giants?”

“I won’t kill your idiot husband, if that’s what you’re talking about.” Bengie smiles easily, outright grinning when Yadi huffs. He doesn’t know why his little brother gets so wound up, he knows that Bengie loves Pablo. “Why?”

“Zangano, I’m talking about your husband. Ex-husband.” Yadi sighs. “Are you going to be okay around Lincecum?”

“We’ll rarely be on the field at the same time. I probably won’t see much of him at all. I’ll be fine. I’ve never been better.”

Yadi looks unsure but he accepts it as the truth, as he so often does. Bengie waves him off to the cage with a smile that falls as soon as his little brother is distracted by his teammates. He’s lying... he’s been lying for a long time. No matter how much they’d been fighting, the awful things they’d said to each other and the things they’d thrown at each other, ever since Tim filed for divorce, all Bengie can feel is an ache in his heart where the man he loved used to be.

Still loves, when he feels like being honest with himself.

When he sees Tim on the field, for a minute, he doesn’t recognize him. He looks so much different with the short hair. He looks happy though, smiling brightly, throwing his head back and laughing at something that Vogelsong and Lopez are talking about. Bengie can very clearly remember the last time he made Tim laugh like that, six months before his husband told him he was done and walked out of the house at three in the morning. 

They’d been in bed together. He doesn’t even remember what he said, just remembers how Tim looked, flushed and glowing, hair sticking to sweat slick skin as his body shook with laughter. He’d pulled Bengie back on top of him, kissed him breathless and touched him until he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t resist, he had to take his husband again. It was the last time they had honest to god made love. Everything that came after was little more than hate sex.

He looks good. Bengie misses the long hair but the short hair doesn’t look bad. He looks heavier than when Bengie last saw him, the muscles cut and defined like they had been in 2011. His bicep flexes when he rubs his hair and stretches, twisting and turning, looking up at Lopez and saying something that apparently dies on his lips when he sees Bengie. The smile dies too and that hurts Bengie more than anything else, a knife to the heart that reminds him he’s lying to everybody when he tells them he’s okay.

When he turns away, the first thing he sees is his younger brother. Yadi is looking at him, biting his lip. He starts to approach Bengie but stops short when Bengie shakes his head and holds up a hand. He retreats off the field and into the dugout, goes back to the clubhouse and finds a quiet corner. He fishes through his bag for a flask he’d laughed and told his little brother was for celebration. Instead he takes a swig to steady his nerves and try to make the hurt go away.

He keeps the drinking to two swigs and counts backward from ten before hitting the dugout again. He leans against the rails and very resolutely does not look at the Giants dugout. He doesn’t respond to Yadi’s questions or pokes, just gives his brother silent, expressionless looks before turning his attention back to the game. The team knows something is upsetting him, even if they don’t know what, and they give him a wide berth, all except for Miller. He watches Bengie with wide puppy eyes, asks if there’s anything he can do. Bengie offers him a half smile and shakes his head, thanks him for asking.

As soon as the game is over, he changes and makes a break for it. He doesn’t want to see any of his old teammates or his brother-in-law. He just wants to go back to his hotel room and stew in his own misery. The universe decides it hates him, though, because he runs head first into Pablo, both of them oofing and wheezing as the breath shoots out of their bodies.

Pablo holds a hand out and pulls him onto his feet, wincing and rubbing his own chest. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to barrel you over. I was looking for Yadi.”

“Still in the clubhouse.” Bengie shrugs, dusting himself off.. “He should be out soon. I don’t think he’d hang around too long, not when he knows that you’re waiting for him. Have a good night, Sandoval.”

“Bengie, wait...” His voice is soft and low. Bengie hates the sympathy in his eyes. “I saw, earlier. You should-”

“Don’t. I don’t want any help and I don’t want your pity.” Bengie says sharply, gritting his teeth. “I certainly don’t need it.”  


“I was just going to say that Timmy really misses you. A lot.”

It’s cruel, Bengie thinks, to taunt him with something like that. He knows that Pablo wouldn’t hurt him for anything, not intentionally, but just telling him that makes him hurt so bad he can barely stand it. His heart goes into that same vise-grip that always grips it when he thinks of his ex-husband and he shakes his head, walking away from Sandoval without a word. He can’t look at anything that wears orange and black right now.

He goes to his hotel room and calls his kids, tries to let their laughter and stories and little problems take him away from his own problems. It works, for a little while, until there’s a knock on his door. It’s late anyway and he tells them to get some sleep and that he loves them before hanging up and tossing his cell phone aside, padding to the door.

Tim is standing at the door, short hair damp and sticking out at odd angles, glasses slipping down his nose and wearing one of those ridiculous short sleeved hoodies that Bengie always told him looked weird but he secretly liked because it was so very Tim. His ex-husband smiles at him, shifts on his feet, hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie.

“Hi Bengie.”

“Hi...” Bengie can’t help the note of wonder in his voice. He wants to ask how Tim could be so cruel, coming here like this when he knows how much it’s going to make Bengie hurt. “I. What are you doing here?”

Tim shrugs. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Bengie, please. It’ll only take a minute.” Tim answers, giving him a steady look.

Bengie caves because he most always did when Tim would look at him like that. Hell, he’d cave to pretty much anything for Tim. There was something about that face and those big brown eyes that made him want to do anything the younger man told him to, made him want to give Tim the world. He steps back and lets his ex come inside, nudging the door shut behind him.

“Well?”

“Not really sure how to say it.” Tim says it slowly, clearly wracking his brain for what he’ll think is the right words. There’s fear pooling in Bengie’s stomach. He’s probably moved on, has a new boyfriend or a new fiance or maybe already remarried. The last is probably the least likely. Pablo would have told him... unless he thought that it was something Tim should tell Bengie himself.

Bengie swallows hard and shrugs. “Might as well just say it. Probably won’t be the worst thing either one of us has ever said to the other.”

Tim nods, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It really isn’t. Just...”

“Just what Timmy?”

“I _miss_ you.”

It’s the last thing he was expecting Tim to say and he has no idea how to respond. It’s something he’s fantasized about since Tim walked out on him last year, his husband coming back and telling him he misses him and it was all a mistake. But the ‘it was a mistake’ never comes. Tim stares at him with tired, frustrated eyes and Bengie doesn’t know what to say or do to make that look go away.

He touches Tim’s shoulder, squeezes it and tries to speak before shaking his head. He tries to apologize and can’t get that to come out either. It’s a bad idea and he shouldn’t do it but he can’t stop himself from tipping Tim’s chin up and pressing their lips together. It’s electric, that spark still there and that’s no surprise. Bengie’s never stopped loving him, wanting him, missing him.

Tim’s doesn’t let go, clings so tightly to Bengie that it actually hurts. Bengie whispers his name but his ex just shakes his head hard before crushing their lips together again. He whispers it again, that he missed Bengie, one more hard kiss before he’s moving back, taking one step out of Bengie’s space. It makes Bengie feel cold. That’s all it was, a kiss for the road, a moment of weakness on Tim’s part. He looks away.

“Bengie...”

“What?”

“Come home. Just.... please. Come home.” Tim is looking him straight in the eye and for once, his voice isn’t shaking. He looks firm, strong, confident. “It was a mistake... I, we, should have tried harder. We can make it work. Forget about the divorce, I don’t want it. I just want you. And I want you to come home.”

“You don’t-”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I do or don’t want, Molina. You remember how that went last time.” Tim warns, crossing his arms over his chest and sighing. “Fine. Do what you want. I tried.”

Bengie nods slowly and turns away, pretends not to hear the strangled noise that his ex probably didn’t want or mean to let out. He grabs his suitcase, starts throwing his things into it, looking up at Tim. The younger man is retreating to the door and Bengie clears his throat, says his name quietly. Tim stops, head hanging low before looking over his shoulder.

“Wait. I have to get my stuff.”

Tim’s expression changes in an instant, that broad, goofy smile that Bengie loves and has missed so much overtaking his face. His ex- no, his husband, his husband flits around the room, snagging Bengie’s things from here and there. The memory is still ingrained, all the places that Bengie stashes everything, just like Bengie remembers that Tim has an unexplainable habit of losing his keys in the freezer and always cooks enough bacon for breakfast so that he can slip the dogs a few strips while Bengie rolls his eyes.

His husband doesn’t step more than a few inches away from him as they leave the room and walk to the elevator, fingers brushing against Bengie’s wrist, a shy and happy smile on his face. He kisses Bengie again in the elevator, never saying a word, just touching Bengie’s cheek and running a hand over Bengie’s arm before stepping away when the elevator dings and the doors slide open.

He follows Tim across the lobby, passing his brother and Pablo in the process. He offers Yadi a small smile but his brother and brother-in-law are outright beaming, those bright smiles that would blind lesser men. He smiles and looks away, follows his own husband out to the valet parking. They dump his luggage in the trunk and Tim keeps looking at him during the drive, laughing outright when Bengie grabs the door during some of the turns and declares Tim is going to get them both killed.

“You have no sense of adventure.” Tim grins.

“I have an overwhelming sense of adventure.” Bengie counters, still gripping the door. “I married you. There’s adventure for you.”

Tim doesn’t respond, just smiles and turns his attention back to the road, slowing down before whipping into a parking space in front of a condo. Bengie sends up a silent prayer in thanks for the ride finally being over before climbing out of the car and grabbing his bags, following his husband into the house. Cy and Kayo are going insane, jumping and dashing and running circles around them. Tim feeds them and shuts them up in the laundry room for the night before gesturing Bengie up the stairs.

The bedroom doesn’t look anything like any room Tim ever occupies. It’s too neat. The bed is made, there aren’t shoes and clothes scattered everywhere. Even the pictures and things that usually scatter the top of the dresser and the bedside table are lined up neatly. Bengie drops his suitcase in the floor, looks around slowly before turning his eyes on Tim and raising an eyebrow.

Tim flushes. “Well, you always kept everything so neat... or tried to. I haven’t forgotten the Hurricane Tim thing, just so you know.”

“You... did this. For me.” Bengie says slowly. “You were that sure I’d come back.”

“Sure? I wasn’t sure at all.” Tim shrugs. “I just hoped. After I saw you at the park, it just all came back. Wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I didn’t at least try so I did and... well, you’re home. That’s all that matters.”

“Tim, we’re only going to have two more days and then I have to leave with the Cardinals.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “And I’ll miss you like crazy but I’m not letting you fuck this up because you’re paranoid, Molina. We’ve already lost too much time. I don’t want to lose any more.”

“Sorry. I just don’t know what to do from here. This feels too easy.” Bengie answers, flushing and smiling at him. “Guess we’ll work it out somehow, right?”

“Yep.” Tim smiles brightly. “Let’s start with going to bed and we’ll make up the rest as we go.”

Bengie laughs and drags him in close, kisses him slowly. “Hmmm, that sounds familiar. Think I said the same thing when I proposed to you.”

“It was a good plan. Now... stop talking and take me to bed.”

Bengie does.


End file.
